i 


LIBRARY 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

SANTA  BARBARA 

PRESENTED  BY 
MRS.    R.  C.    DUNCAN 


'•THE    UTTLE   1IAXT>    CLASPED   TIGHT    IX    HAND, 
-Ul  1  1    «.Ii:i..    <.I.AI>    HOY,    TOGETHER." 


WHEN  I  WAS  A  CHILD 


BY 

ERNEST  W.  SHURTLEFF 

AUTHOR    OF 
EASTER   GLEAMS,"    AND    OTHER    POEMS 


L 


ILLUSTRATIONS    BY 

F.  CHILDE  HASSAM 


BOSTON 

D    L  O  T  H  R  O  P     COMPANY 


Copyright,  1886, 

by 
D.   LoTHRor  &   COMPANY. 


AFFECTIONATELY 


TO 

MY    FATHER 


WHEX   I   WAS   A   CHILD. 


WHEN  I  was  a  child,  sweet  years  ago, 
My  heart  was  light  and  merry, 
My  cheeks  were  red  as  the  ruddy  glow 

Of  summer's  ripening  cherry. 
I  skipped  the  sunny  schoolward  way, 

My  thoughts  to  gladness  given, 
My  life  o'erflowing,  like  the  day, 
With  beauty  born  in  heaven. 

The  very  ground  enchanted  seemed, 

Each  dewy  blossom's  chalice 
That  blushed  its  right  to  bloom,  I  dreamed 

Some  dainty  fairy's  palace. 


8  "XV HEX    I    WAS    A    CHILD. 

And  when  I  walked  the  fields  alone, 

By  fragrant  meadows  plodding, 
I  thought  the  daisies,  softly  blown, 

To  me  "  good  day  "  were  nodding. 
A  spell  seemed  binding  all  the  world 

As  though  by  magic  olden, 
And  every  path  seemed  gemmed  and  pearled, 

And  every  fancy  golden. 
My  hopes,  like  lilies  when  they  blow, 

In  perfect  trust  took  blossom, 
And  if  God  plucked  them,  it  was  so 

To  wear  them  on  His  bosom. 

Half-hidden  by  a  vernal  hood 

Of  vines  as  fresh  as  smilax, 
Alone,  and  weather-beaten,  stood 

The  schoolhouse  in  the  lilacs. 
The  walls  with  hoary  moss  were  gray, 

Unknown  to  fame  or  fiction, 
But  on  the  roof  the  sunshine  lay  — 

God's  golden  benediction. 


WIIEX    I    WAS    A    CHILD.  9 

As  Memory  comes  with  shining  face, 

The  past  again  restoring, 
We  view  in  thought  the  happy  place, 

Each  dusty  nook  exploring. 
The  walls  with  names  and  secrets  sweet 

Scrawled  o'er  the  crumbling  plaster, 
The  threshold,  worn  by  noisy  feet, 

The  high  seat  for  the  master, 
Who,  frowning  o'er  his  glasses,  raised 

His  hand  with  mien  indignant. 
Or  stroked  his  beardless  chin,  and  gazed 

With  gracious  smile  benignant ; 
Or  paced  the  room  with  searching  eye, 

Our  every  look  to  follow, 
His  hands  behind  him,  hidden  by 

The  coat-tails  of  his  swallow. 
The  plain  board  desks,  all  scratched  and  worn, 

The  spread  of  low  white  ceiling, 
The  cooling  breeze  that  came  at  morn, 

Through  open  windows  stealing, 


10  AVHEX    I    WAS    A    CHILD. 

The  sun-tanned  children  in  a  row, 

The  simple  lesson  telling  ;  — 
In  those  fair  days,  sweet  years  ago, 

That  room  was  Wisdom's  dwelling. 
The  bustling  wren  sang  round  the  eaves 

And,  in  the  hush  of  classes, 
We  heard  outside  the  rustling  leaves 

And  whispering  of  the  grasses  ; 
And  when  the  hour  of  work  was  done-, 

Aside  our  lessons  laying, 
With  skip  and  shout  and  merry  run 

We  took  us  to  our  playing. 

n. 

As  gay  as  any  butterfly 

That  haunts  the  meadow  grasses, 
We  played  the  shining  moments  by, 

We  little  lads  and  lasses. 
We  plucked  the  early  buds  of  spring, 

Where  birds  in  song  were  breathing; 


WHEN    I    WAS    A    CHILD. 

We  chose  a  May-time  queen  and  king, 
Their  crowns  of  violets  wreathing; 

We  caught  the  trout  in  bubbling  brooks 
O'er  pearly  pebbles  flowing  ; 


11 


We  wandered  into  pasture  nooks 
Where  dreamy  cows  were  lowing ; 

We  climbed  the  towering  pine,  to  find 
The  crows'  nest  high  secreted ; 


12 


WHEX    I    WAS    A    CHILD. 


We  heard  the  roaring  of  the  wind 

That  through  the  branches  fleeted; 
We  gathered  strawberries,  wild  and  sweet, 

That  nestled  hid  in  clover  ; 
We  walked  the  log  with  daring  feet, 

That  bridged  the  river  over  ; 
We  gave  the  timid  rabbit  chase, 

We  filled  the  woods  with  singing, 
We  lead  in  dreams  the  steeple  race, 

On  bending  birches  swinging. 
When  I  was  a  child,  sweet  years  ago, 

And  through  the  woods  went  Maying, 
The  whole  day  seemed  to  overflow 

With  plans  for  joyous  playing. 

ill. 

Then  came  the  glowing  July  days, 
When  summer's  sun  was  burning; 

The  farmers,  in  the  meadow  ways, 
The  new-cut  grasses  turning  ; 


't**2w*  .^  '  ^:£^  5  ;  '"*"  '  . 

•;••  -  ^  '^*^       /-A«/1       .^ 


"  \vi:  <;AVK  THK  TIMID  KAUBIT  CHASE, 

WE    KILLED   THE    WOODS    WITH    SINGING." 


AVIIEX    I    "WAS    A    CHILD.  15 

The  gleaming  scythe  —  how  bright  it  swept 

Like  silver  through  pink  clover ! 
And  how  the  dewdrops  flashed  and  wept 

The  daisied  meadows  over  ! 
How  stirred  the  air  with  breathing  balm, 

And  flute  like  notes  of  thrushes  ! 
The  purling  brook  —  how  blue  and  calm, 

Among  the  reeds  and  rushes  ! 
The  bobolink  song-charmed  the  hills, 

The  blackbirds  voiced  the  meadows ; 
The  air  was  filled  with  treble  trills, 

And  dancing  lights  and  shadows ; 
And  now  and  then  a  yellow  bird 

Gleamed  fluttering  through  the  heather, 
And  where  he  perched  the  leaflets  stirred, 

And  fell  a  golden  feather  : 
And,  near  the  tide  of  mellowing  noon, 

We  heard  an  elfin  humming, 
As  though  the  honeyed  bees  of  June 

In  busy  swarms  were  coming. 


16  WHKX    I    WAS    A    CHILD. 

But  no  —  for  'round  the  roses  fair, 

We  saw  a  something  airy 
That  seemed  half  creature  of  the  air, 

And  half  a  flower-fairy. 
His  iris  wing,  his  slender  bill, 

His  purple-tinted  bosom  — 
O  humming-bird,  how  well  you  fill 

The  semblance  of  a  blossom  ! 
We  used  to  chase  you,  dainty  fay, 

From  flower  to  sister  flower. 
And  when  at  last  you  stole  away 

New  birdlings  sought  your  bower. 
We  saw  the  flaming  oriole 

Gleam  through  the  orchard  closes  - 
That  star-bird,  gifted  with  a  soul 

That  in  its  song  reposes. 
Ah,  Oriole,  thy  flight  had  cleft 

In  some  far  sky's  dominions, 
A  sunset  cloud,  and  lo  !  it  left 

Its  glory  on  thy  pinions  ! 


•\VIIKN    I    WAS    A    CHILI). 

Else  why  that  hue  so  rich,  so  bright, 
Of  red  and  orange  blending, 

Just  such  as  evening  gives  to  night 
When  glowing  day  is  ending? 


17 


But  see !   the  cart  is  filled  with  hay, 
We  climb  the  fragrant  mountain, 

And  ride  the  joggling  homeward  way, 
Each  heart  a  laughter-fountain. 


WHEN    I    WAS    A    CHILI). 

And  scarcely  has  the  precious  store 
The  old  barn  roof  passed  under, 

When,  in  the  west,  we  hear  the  roar 
Of  distance-muffled  thunder  ; 


And  quickly  comes  the  rushing  shower 

In  shaking  peals  and  flashes, 
The  shrouded  fury  of  an  hour, 

Swift  winds,  and  silver  plashes  ! 
A  rainbow  in  the  midst  appears, 

The  darkness  glorifying, 
A  benediction  in  the  tears 

Of  Hope  and  Sorrow  vying. 


•\VIIEX    I    WAS    A    (  HILD.  19 

Then,  in  the  west,  the  sun  sinks  low, 
Pink  clouds  through  ether  roaming  — 

When  I  wa:$  a  child  sweet  years  ago, 
What  charms  were  in  the  gloaming ! 


When  Autumn's  frost}-  fingers  turned 

The  silver  grain  to  yellow, 
And  all  the  orchard  branches  burned 

With  rosy  fruitage  mellow, 
We  went  a  nutting  where  the  breeze 

Shook  down  the  wealth  in  showers. 
The  boys  like  tempests  in  the  trees, 

The  girls  beneath,  like  flowers. 

We  climbed  the  mows  of  fragrant  hay 
In  barns  where  swallows  twittered, 

And  beams  of  sunshine,  blithe  as  the}r. 
On  golden  pinions  flittered. 


20  WHEX    I    WAS    A    CHILD. 

We  built  us  cosey  nests,  and  there 

We  hid  with  stifled  laughter, 
While  little  seekers,  sweet  and  fair, 

Climbed  dusty  beam  and  rafter, 
And,  guided  by  the  smothered  sound, 

Found  out  our  hiding  places  ; 
Then  for  the  goal  with  eager  bound, 

Quick  breath  and  ruddy  faces  ! 
And  so  we  played  and  laughed  and  hid 

Until  the  dew  was  falling, 
And,  through  the  dusk,  the  katydid 

Her  own  glad  name  was  calling. 

Then  came  the  quiet  homeward  walk, 

Through  paths  that  crossed  the  meadows ; 
The  childish  hopes  and  happy  talk, 

The  years  leave  in  the  shadows ; 
The  little  hand  clasped  tight  in  hand, 

Sweet  girl,  glad  boy  together  ; 
The  twilight  dreaming  o'er  the  land, 

Soft  touching  hill  and  heather. 


WHEX    I    WAS    A    CHILD. 

Methinks  again  I  see  the  face 

Of  her  who  walked  beside  me, 
The  soft  light  crowns  the  brow  of  grace, 

A  star  of  peace  to  guide  me. 
I  see  again  the  soft  blue  eyes, 

The  silken  ringlets  blowing  ; 
I  hear  the  soothing  voice  arise 

Like  rills  in  summer  flowing; 
The  little  head  thrown  back,  the  form 

So  light,  the  laugh  so  ringing  ; 
The  small  brown  hand  in  mine,  as  warm 

As  a  rose  in  sunshine  springing. 
Oh  I  give  me  back  my  playmate's  love, 

Her  saintly  face  so  shining  — 
Dear  God  !  she  dwells  with  Thee  above 

While  I  am  here  repining. 
'Tis  better  so,  'tis  better  so, 

No  sins  to  be  forgiven  — 
When  she  was  a  child,  sweet  years  ago, 

She  found  the  way  to  Heaven. 


WHEN    I    WAS    A    CHILD. 


V. 

And  now  I  dream  of  winter  time, 

Of  many  a  snow-ball  battle  ; 
Of  windows  white  with  silver  rime 

And  picture  hills  and  cattle. 
The  silent,  modest,  careless  snow  — 

All  day  from  heaven  it  showered, 
Till  naked  trees  grew  white,  as  though 

Their  boughs  again  had  flowered. 
Then  did  the  happy  boys  and  girls 

Coast  through  the  valley  closes, 
The  sharp  wind  tossing  golden  curls, 

And  touching  cheeks  with  roses. 


WIIKX    I    WAS    A    CHILD. 

We  skated  on  the  crystal  pond, 
And  set  the  bonfire  gleaming, 

When,  in  the  west,  far  hills  be}rond, 
We  saw  the  first  star  dreaming. 


23 


And  I  remember  Christmas  time, 
The  lonely  night  wind  sighing, 

The  silver  sleigh-bells'  passing  chime 
In  frosty  distance  dying. 


24  WHEX    I    WAS    A    CHILD. 

And  grandmother  —  her  blessed  face, 

All  beautiful  and  wrinkled  — 
So  pure  had  grown  her  soul  in  grace 

Her  brow  with  white  was  sprinkled. 
Her  eyes,  how  loving,  meek  and  mild, 

How  fond  her  hand's  caressing! 
To  me,  a  hopeful,  careless  child, 

Her  presence  was  a  blessing. 
Again  I  feel  the  firelight's  spell, 

And  hear  the  low  voice  telling 
The  tale  we  children  loved  so  well 

To  hear  in  that  dear  dwelling. 

o 

The  Christmas  tree  close  by  is  seen, 

And  groups  of  sunny  faces, 
The  holly  wreaths  and  evergreen 

Hiing  in  the  window  places, 
The  popping  corn,  like  furious  snow, 

Storms  ever  white  and  whiter. 
And,  sparkling  in  the  rudely  glow, 

Our  wondering  eyes  grow  brighter. 


"AGAIN  i  FEEL  THE  FIKELICJHT'S  SPELL. 


WHEN"    I    WAS    A    CHILD.  27 

Now  eome  the  games  of  "  blind-man's-buff,'' 

About  the  great  round  table. 
With  roaring  fun,  and  noise  enough 

To  drown  the  cries  of  Babel. 
But  grandmother,  with  finger  tips 

So  beautiful  and  slender, 
Pressed  softly  on  her  smiling  lips, 

Compels  a  hushed  surrender. 
She  leads  the  tired,  lingering  feet 

Upstairs  to  Slumber  City, 
She  hears  the  hurried  prayers  so  sweet, 

And  kisses  lips  so  prett}', 
And  leaves  the  weary,  white-gowned  flock 

To  dreams  and  downy  sleeping; 
Meanwhile  the  stately  old  house-clock, 

A  faithful  vigil  keeping, 
Ticks  louder  in  the  growing  calm, 

Till  eyelids,  heavy  seeming, 
Are  softly  closed  by  slumber's  charm, 

And  leave  us  soundly  dreaming. 


28  WHEN   I    WAS    A    CHILD. 

Dear  grandmother  !     Her  life's  bright  beams 

Have  found  at  last  their  number, 
And  only  now  in  blessed  dreams 

She  bends  above  our  slumber. 
An  angel  came  to  lead  her  feet 

Upstairs  to  Slumber  City, 
And  left  our  lonely  hearts  to  beat 

Without  her  love  and  pity. 


VI. 


Ah  me  !    still,  still  the  memories  come, 

When  I  am  weary  hearted  ; 
For  in  my  heart  they  foun<J  a  home 

When  life  and  childhood  parted. 
When  I  was  a  child  in  those  sweet  years, 

I  played  in  sight  of  Heaven, 
But  now  the  way  remote  appears 

With  sins  to  be  forgiven  ! 
Oh,  give  me  back  those  dear  old  days, 

And  let  them  leave  me  never ! 


AVHEX    I    WAS    A    CHILD.  29 

Nay,  nay,  His  hand  on  those  sweet  ways 

Hath  laid  the  Past  forever. 
The  spirit  of  that  blessed  Past 

Lies  like  an  angel  sleeping  ; 
She  folds  upon  her  bosom  fast 

The  joys  for  which  I'm  weeping! 
She  cannot  wake,  she  cannot  lift 

Her  hand  again  to  love  me, 
But  lies  as  hushed  as  the  clouds  that  drift 

Through  silent  skies  above  me  ; 

Yet  in  my  heart,  in  music  mild, 

A  tender  voice  seems  saying, — 
If  thou  would'st  be  again  a  child 

With  sweet-lipped  children  playing  — 
Be  pure  in  soul,  and  thou  shalt  know 

A  surcease  of  thy  sorrow, 
And  the  peace  of  the  happy  long  ago 

Shall  dawn  with  God's  to-morrow. 


VHEX    I    WAS    A    CHILD. 

Again,  thy  heart  shall  light  become, 
Thy  youth  shall  leave  thee  never, 

And  a  glad  child  in  thy  Father's  home 
Shalt  thou  remain  forever. 


